The Sacrifice
by Villicus
Summary: Everyone believes that great love and unwavering grace is good. But you never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.


**The Sacrifice  
** **By Villicus**

* * *

" _Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable. Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals."_

– _Martin Luther King Jr._

* * *

If only I had seen it coming.

Then again, what difference would it have made?

I was driving home from a long day of work at the Rainbow factory. Then I heard something on the radio.

I was so tired, it might as well have been static. Despite almost tuning it out completely, I managed to learn that a strange disease in a small village in India had suddenly killed a few people. A flu that had never been encountered in human history.

It wasn't influenza, but four people are dead, so the Centers for Disease Control sent some doctors over to investigate.

At that point, I didn't think too much of it. I was almost more concerned on getting home faster so I could finally rest. People die every day, so why was this any different?

Coming home with the family on Sunday after a little family dinner at a restaurant, I heard something on the radio again. It was another report that followed up on the events before.

Except now thirty thousand people have died, not four. Entire villages in the back hills of India, just gone. While I heard experts confirm it was a flu strain that had never been seen before, I had to admit I was gripping the wheel a little tighter in fear. I was glad that Richard and the kids were asleep. They didn't need to hear this.

Although Richard knew about it eventually when we woke up on Monday morning, when it was the lead story. The disease was spreading. It wasn't just India.

Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Irag, northern Africa. I try to comfort my husband that it's still far away, but I couldn't stop that fear from lingering in the back of my own mind.

The kids knew about it too, because the story started to pop up everywhere. "The mystery flu," they called it. Prayer and hope united the people for a while, the victims and their families in mind. Though we told ourselves that the situation could be resolved quickly, everyone wondered how we would ever be able to contain it.

Then the president of France shocked everyone with an announcement: He is closing the French borders. Absolutely nobody can enter the country.

And that's why that night I was up late watching the news before I went to sleep. Well, I would have slept, had I not heard a woman, crying her eyes out, say that a man was lying in the hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu. It had come to Europe.

That struck panic into everyone.

As best they can tell, anyone who contracts the disease will carry it for about a week, and they wouldn't even know it.

Then four days of unbelievable symptoms.

Then you die.

The British closed their borders, but it was too late. The disease broke out in Southampton, Liverpool, London, and on Tuesday morning, I watched the President of the United States, _my country_ , make an announcement.

"Due to a national-security risk, all flights to and from the Unites States have been canceled. If you have loved ones overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come home until we find a cure for this horrific disease."

Within days, everything and everyone seems to have plunged into unbelievable fear. I wasn't the only one wondering _What if it comes to this country?_ My mind was already reeling from thinking endlessly about my family.

Then on Tuesday night, I heard someone running through the streets of Elmore, yelling.

"Turn on the radio!"

I ushered my kids into bed, telling them there is nothing to worry about, but even I can tell they don't buy it.

I sat next to the radio with Richard, and along with everyone else, we learn that two women are lying in a hospital in New York City dying of the mystery flu. It had come to America.

Within hours, the disease enveloped the country. Doctors worked around the clock, trying to find a cure, but as far as I could tell, nothing was working. The disease broke out in Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. Like it was just sweeping through the borders.

Then suddenly, _finally,_ the news came out: A cure had been found. A vaccine can be made. But we needed the blood of someone who hadn't been infected.

So we were all asked to just one thing: Go to the nearest hospital and have our blood tested. When the sirens go off in the neighborhood, we're supposed to make our way, quickly and quietly, to the hospital. It was… sobering, to say the least.

Late Friday night. By the time my family and I made it to the hospital, there were long lines of people among dozens of doctors and nurses scurrying about, taking blood samples and labeling them.

Finally, it was our turn.

Richard went first, then me. Our kids followed.

The doctors told us to wait in the parking lot for our name to be called. I hugged my kids, looking around at my neighbors. We were all terrified. Scared, waiting, wondering.

I shook off a thought that said _Is this the end of the world? How did this happen?_

Nobody seems to have their name called. Doctors just kept taking people's blood.

Suddenly, someone came running out of the hospital, screaming. He was yelling a name while waving his clipboard.

I didn't hear him at first. I asked Richard, "What's he saying?"

He doesn't respond for a bit, but then he turned to me with an expression that I could not describe.

The young man yelled the name again as a team of medical staff join him. They run in our direction, but again I don't hear the name. Then Anais tugged on my shirt.

"Mom? That's me. That's my name they're calling."

Before I could react, they've grabbed her and run off.

I sprinted towards them and almost broke the wrist of the man holding my daughter.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked.

The man is frozen stiff in pain, so I eased my grip on him a bit. Just a bit.

"It's… it's okay," he replied. "We think she has the right blood type. We just need to check one more time to be sure. We need to confirm she doesn't have the disease."

I look at my daughter in the eyes. I saw fear, but also courage. She nodded at me, and I released my grip.

Five tense minutes later, the doctors and nurses come out. They are crying, laughing, and hugging each other. I haven't seen anyone laugh in over a week.

An old doctor walked up to me and the family.

"Thank you," he said. "Your daughter's blood is perfect. It's clean, it's pure, she doesn't have the disease. We can use it to make the vaccine."

The news spread quickly throughout the parking lot. People screamed, laughed, prayed, cried. I would have joined them, but the old doctor had more to say.

He pulled me and Richard aside. "I need to talk to you," he said. "We didn't realize that the donor would be a minor and we… we need you to sign a consent form."

He presented the form to me and I was about to sign it, but then I noticed something. The box for the number of pints of blood to be taken was empty.

"How many pints?" I asked.

The old doctor's face was downcast.

"We had no idea it would be a child," he quietly replied. "We weren't prepared for that."

My blood ran cold.

Gumball and Darwin walked over, concern on their faces.

"What's going on?" my son asked.

I asked the doctor again, "How many pints?!"

He looked away and said regretfully, "We are going to need it all!"

The world seemed to spin around me. I could not believe what I was hearing, and neither could my family.

"I… I don't… What do you mean you need it all? She's only four!" I yelled.

The doctor grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. "We are talking about the whole world here. Do you understand? _The whole world!_ Please, sign the form. We need to hurry!"

My mind was in overdrive, looking for any kind of alternative.

"Can't you give him a transfusion?" I pleaded.

"If we had clean blood, we would, but we don't. Please, will you sign the form?"

That moment broke me. I felt Richard close his hand around mine. My knuckles were clenched so tight that they turned white. Gumball and Darwin weren't helping, pleading to the doctor about their only sister. It shattered my heart to hear them wailing over losing Anais.

In numb silence, I signed the form, knowing my kids would hate me for it. It was the only right thing to do.

"Would you like to have a moment with your daughter before we get started?" the doctor asked.

Gumball and Darwin rushed ahead of us into the hospital room where Anais sat on a table. They hugged her and started crying at the top of their lungs, leaving her completely confused.

"Mom? Dad?" she asked, seeing us come in. "What's going on?"

I couldn't even look her in the eyes. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but…

The doctors and nurses came in before we could ay anything more. They dragged Gumball and Darwin away, while they told me they were sorry. That they had to get started now. That people all over the world were dying.

Richard managed to hug his daughter one last time before running out of the room, crying his eyes out.

It took all of my willpower to leave. Hearing Anais's voice crying out to me while I forced myself out was the most difficult, horrible thing I've ever experienced in my life.

"Mom? Dad? What's going on? Where are you going? Why are you leaving? Why are you abandoning me?"

Her words continue to haunt me today.

One week after that ordeal, a ceremony was held to honor my daughter for her phenomenal contribution to humanity… but some people slept through it, others didn't bother to come because they had things to do, some came with pretentious smiles and pretended to care, while others sat around and said, "This is boring."

I would have destroyed them on the spot if I had any less self-control.

I grabbed one of them by the throat and yelled.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of it or not, but this _pathetic_ life that you have, my daughter died so that you could have it! My daughter died so that you could live. SHE! DIED! FOR! YOU! Does that mean nothing to you!?"

I felt tears in my eyes. Maybe now these low-lifes can begin to comprehend the great grace and love that was given to them.

They didn't deserve it, after all.

None of us did.


End file.
